Crowns and Cabals

by Dina Rae

  Her words comforted me, if just for a moment. Raphael then interrupted with a strong dose of reality. “Wendy, stop with this nonsense. If Jaxie rejects their inner circle, then…Well, you know what will happen. I don’t need to spell it out. Jaxie, the only chance you have, the only chance we all have is you. Let me get my people up here. Maybe there are others. We can summon up the vigilante cells you created and bring them here. War, Jaxie. If you can get him all to yourself for a night…We strike. Game over, at least for him. Make it look like you’re also dead…”

  Raphael took his phone out and fiddled. “I got a text from Chad. Must not have heard it over all of the explosions. I know who our guardian angels are! Chad and Marta! They had to leave Dallas. My prayers were all answered. Oh, thank you, God! Jaxie, don’t you see? This is a sign. You can do this!”

  “Are you nuts? Did I leave out the part about how the inner circle shared a child’s heart as an appetizer? What next? Some senior citizens for dessert? These people are inhuman!”

  “My grandpa used to call the inner circle a bunch of vampires. That’s basically what you are describing. Vampirism. Even vampires have a weakness.”

  Wendy, Camden, Brick, Sai, and Raphael bounced idea after idea off of each other. I didn’t think any of them carried water. Wendy gave me a pair of sweatpants, slip-on tennis shoes, and an old, plain t-shirt to change into. Sai ripped the microphone out of my dress.

  “I’m going to sew this back up and give it back to you today. Hang it in your closet in case anyone snoops around…”

  I nodded in appreciation and then took her registered phone. She had a few of the out-of-state numbers I needed to call. Quickly, I group texted my out-of-state contacts to see if any of them meant what they told me months ago. I then disassembled Sai’s phone and ran it through Wendy’s garbage disposable.

  “Hey!” Sai yelled.

  “We don’t have too many plays left. I’ll buy you a new one later.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Raphael

  Once we regrouped in Wendy’s apartment, Jaxie went into detail about my Aysa, and then her. Every word out of her mouth zapped me like a cattle prod. I didn’t want to believe it. Jaxie was many things, but a liar she wasn’t. Could her parents have lied to her? Maybe she was adopted. Maybe she was stolen. All I knew was that Aysa could never have been a monster. She told me about her cleft and how she had been sensitive about it. She worried that our children would inherit it. I never thought there was more.

  I needed to move on. Aysa was gone, and I was still alive, at least for now. Harper entered my mind and I instantly felt guilty. I needed to focus on the bull worshiping coronation. I needed a plan. Chad and Marta were in Boston. I never been so happy about two people ignoring my orders. Maybe they’d have an idea, because I certainly didn’t. I didn’t want to die for nothing.

  “Okay, let’s get it together. We all know who Lucifer is, right?” Everyone mumbled or nodded. “Then who exactly is Moloch? One of my Patriots mentioned him. He’s an ancient god, something about child sacrifice. We figured that out, but what else do we got? No one knows. Very well. I’ll use my phone. I don’t care about being tracked anymore. Plus, I got a new one in my bag. Give me a minute.”

  As I found a few websites with little information, I imagined this god being part of ancient ceremonies back in the Middle East. Harper knew. I wanted to call her so badly, but I was probably a wanted man at this point. She didn’t need the trouble.

  “These Moloch sites are locked. I need a user and password, paid subscription, that kind of thing. Here is a brief description. It says that Moloch means king. He was an Ammonite and Phoenician god who somehow made his way to Greece. He is connected with Ba’al Hammon, Kronos, and even Satan. Moloch or Malik, and oversees Hell. Nice. His female consort was Ashtoreth. Those who believe and worship him will sacrifice children, especially the firstborn. Idols of Moloch are the head of a bull. Well, that fits well with the psychotic evening you just lived through.”

  “So he’s basically the gate keeper. You have to go through him to reach Satan. That also fits. You should have seen those crowns. They all lit up, brighter than stars. The room glowed in all kinds of colors from the gemstones. The prayers and chants somehow activated it all. I think they might have mentioned Lucifer’s gemstones.”

  I heard that phrase somewhere before. Was it in one of Harper’s books? Did Harper mention it? I needed her in so many ways.

  “Well it sounds like Hell on earth is official,” said Camden. “I am glad we got this on my tablet’s drive. It’s time to share this with the world. I’m scared, really scared. I’m especially worried about Brick.”

  “Dad…”

  “Nothing seems to scare you, son. It never did and never will.”

  “Yeah, we heard you on the radio…” I said accusingly.

  “That was reckless and stupid. Okay, I’m sending tonight’s ceremony to each of you.” Camden fiddled with his tablet for a minute and then said, “It’s in your email as we speak. Forget about the news. It will never get on the air.”

  “You’re probably right, Camden. But I’ve got someone who might know how to share it with other Patriots.” I found the file in my email and then quickly forwarded it to both Marta and Chad. “This is a long shot, but one way or another it will soon be over.”

  “If it’s not over already. Doctor Laurie’s Gestapo will figure out that last week’s satellite feed was swapped out with tonight’s satellite feed.”

  “Worried about getting fired, Camden?” I asked in jest, trying to lighten up the mood.

  Camden nervously laughed. “If only that was my biggest problem. Back to my son. He looks up to you. You are like family to him, and now you are like family to me. Please promise me to keep an eye on him. He’s technically grown, but still needs a dad.” Camden patted his son’s back.

  I looked him in the eye and nodded. Brick was my family. All of the Patriots were family.

  Jaxie got up and gave us each a hug. “Back to business. If we have any chance of getting away with this, I got to go back home. I know it’s cold, but I feel like walking, and I really need some downtime before facing reality. Wendy, lend me a coat.”

  As Jaxie left, everyone else slowly trickled out the door. We didn’t want to leave at the same time and arouse suspicion. Before destroying my current disposable phone, I made the call.

  “Chad, where are you?”

  “In the thick of it, as always. Glad you’re okay. We made a pit stop at your farm on the way up. Thank God for your grandfather! His hand grenades still work. Not as good as that drone shit, though! Damn! Hats off to the Eastcoast Patriots! Hell of a party back there.”

  “I’m getting in my car as we speak. Brother, I could kiss you and Marta right now! I said a prayer one second before you blew those Peacekeepers away.”

  “Told you God works in mysterious ways,” Chad said.

  “Yes, He does. So, yes, brother. I believe. You were right about everything. When we get out of this mess, you’ll have to take me under your wing and explain the Bible. Now listen, we don’t have a lot of time. Meet me at Laurie’s lab. It’s off of…”

  “Tremont. Already there.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Jaxie

  On foot, I left my Patriots and headed back to my apartment. It was a good two miles from Wendy’s bakery. At the last minute, I chose the long way home, at least another three miles out of the way, and walked through my old subdivision. I walked passed my old townhome, Wendy’s and Yolanda’s old townhomes, and then Brick and Camden’s old house. The streets were dark. Only corner streetlights were lit. Peacekeeper trucks scattered throughout the street curbs and driveways.

  Our homes were stolen in a blink of an eye. It was easier than taking candy from a baby. I thought of that radio host we listened to on the way to Wendy’s. Were there others who rooted for New World Order retribution? Were they trying to make a difference? The news wouldn’t tell us. What would t
he news say about tonight? I yearned to hear their edited version of our attack. Already, we were described as ‘terrorists’.

  As I walked throughout my old neighborhood in the frosty air, I felt incredible despair. Suicide seemed like the best answer. I still had the gun Raphael gave me after the war. It was in my closet, buried under my sweaters. Maybe I could leave this world on my terms, not theirs. My Patriots would not approve, and I had a duty to lead.

  It had to be at least two o’clock in the morning. As I walked and shivered into the night, one thing came to mind-I could not dump the Prince of Peace. Death would surely follow. He would have to be the one to dump me. There still was one more card that I could play. Maybe he and I could pick up where we left off. Would the hellish ceremony be continued? Would the Peace Elders watch us as I pretended to be aroused and enamored by his attention?

  I crossed the quiet highway in the dead of night. A bridge built by Fogle ran over the highway. Its purpose was meant for us employees to walk across when going to and fro work. I chose to run across the highway, not really caring if a car plowed into me. Unfortunately, there was no traffic.

  My apartment complex looked abandoned. A few solar lights glowed around the entrances, but every unit was dark. I assumed Sai, Brick, and Camden were home, but I could have been wrong. Raphael planned on meeting Chad and Marta. My earpiece fell out of my ear somewhere within my old subdivision.

  A four-door black Mercedes with a driver sat in the visitor parking lot. The car looked like the same one that picked me up earlier as did the driver. He faced my apartment. Was that one of the doctor’s henchman?

  Like a sheep led to slaughter, I could go up to my apartment and await my fate. I thought of going to Sai’s or Camden’s, but then why involve them? I sat behind a bush and watched the car for fifteen minutes. The driver was on the phone.

  This was my crossroads. I could run, never look back, and try to find others who wanted to join in the fight. Or I could walk up to my apartment as if I didn’t notice the car in the parking lot and go inside. Then it occurred to me that I didn’t have my purse. In addition to no longer having my illegally removed microchip, I also did not have my apartment key.

  The driver got out of the car and fastened a pair of goggles onto his face. Night vision. I had to play it cool. As he scanned the opposite direction, I casually strolled up the stairs to my apartment, walked to my door, and sat down. There was a card taped onto the door frame. This had to be Camden’s doing. I took the card, swiped my lock, and got into my apartment. Peeking through the blinds, the driver walked a half of a block away by the park. I had a few minutes. On the counter was a new disposable phone with a Post-It. “Call Me.”

  I called the only programmed number in the phone.

  “You okay?” Camden’s voice took my stress level down a few notches. “The black Mercedes has been here for a few hours. I believe the driver is looking for you. The news keeps on talking about tonight’s terrorist attack. They are offering a large reward to anyone with information. You know they will be rolling back footage from satellites, nearby drones, all of it. They might be on to you right now.”

  “Maybe. But I’ve got nowhere to hide. I saw the car and the driver is back. He’s walking up the stairs right now, this time with a remote. There’s a drone right outside my bedroom window.”

  “I bet it’s equipped with an infrared camera. You’re had. Raphael is with Chad and Marta right now. They are in Boston, waiting for us to give them their next move. Chad’s got lots of munitions. He stopped at Raphael’s farm on the way here. Wendy will bring them more.”

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Shit, he’s here.”

  “Sai’s got eyes on you right now. I can’t make any promises…”

  I hung up the phone, smashed it on the counter in as many pieces as I could and flushed it down the toilet. The knocking got louder. I thought about the gun and ran to get it. A moment passed. “Hold on.” I opened the door. “Yes?”

  As I thought, the same driver from earlier stood in my doorway. He was a tall, young, white man with a stocky build and brooding dark eyes. Tufts of dark brown hair stuck out from his uniform cap. The cap had an embroidered emblem that looked like the same one Laurie and his Peace Elders unveiled earlier at the party.

  They sure didn’t waste any time. I never got a good look at the emblem. Now it was right in front of me. They kept the globe and olive branches, but added a crest inside of the globe. The crest contained a pyramid with an all-seeing eye.

  He didn’t ask how I got in my apartment or where I was, just a ‘come with me’ in a deep, monotone voice.

  I took the gun from the inside of my sweatpants and pulled the trigger. A shot went off, but the bullet drove a hole into my ceiling. The driver was too quick. He slammed my forearm to the wall and took the gun away with his other hand.

  “Nice try. But we really have to go.”

  “Why? What have I done?” I asked.

  “Prince Laurie requests your presence at his mansion. Let me rephrase. He demands your presence.” The driver patted me down. I was no longer trusted.

  “Shall I pack a bag?”

  “No, come now.” I thought of refusing, but then he showed me a syringe kept inside of his jacket pocket.

  I walked back out of my apartment. The car didn’t go back to Boston, but instead headed towards Cambridge. I sat in silence with the driver in the still of the night. There wasn’t a car on the street at this ungodly hour. Did Stephen have two homes? I bitterly guessed he had dozens of homes all over the world. He probably just pointed to them and had his goons kick out whoever was living there. This was the World of Peace business model of give and take-you give and they take. If you don’t like it then you die.

  We were definitely in Cambridge. No gates or guard shacks, just opulent historical homes that lined the leafy, charming streets. We pulled on to Gallagher. Peacekeeping trucks and SUVs were all over the place. The quaint block looked more like a guarded army base expecting a battle. The driver swerved around them and pulled into a driveway.

  The early American mansion looked newly renovated, as if a couple of additions were added over the last few decades. The grounds had to be close to an acre, which was almost unheard of in this quaint, charming city. My Patriots were probably camped out at Laurie’s Boston mansion. They’d never find me, not that my life mattered. But they were sitting ducks at the Boston house. If Sai still had eyes on me, I wanted her to blow the place up.

  A Peacekeeper greeted us in the driveway and watched me get out of the car. I scanned the front yard of the property. There were six guards stationed around the house and another two who stood post on the upper balconies of the second floor. I estimated the same number was probably stationed in the back. Was it always this secure or did our attack make them extra cautionary?

  The Peacekeeper ushered me inside. The décor screamed American history. Like his other house which looked more like a chateau, this place didn’t fit what I knew of the doctor. He came off as a modern man with a smart home and contemporary décor. This looked more like something John Hancock once lived in. The art on the wall matched the antique furniture. Display cases that ran alongside the walls of the massive hallway held a museum-worthy collection of American artifacts.

  The guard took me into one of the three formal sitting areas I saw from the immense hallway. “Wait here. There is a powder room over there. You can watch television if you want. The doctor is being interviewed by the press.”

  “He hasn’t come home?” I asked innocently.

  “No. He and his Elders have been giving speeches and statements all night. Their Secret Peace and Truth Task Force took over the city. Mister Steele, your old boss, even handed over satellite footage for review.”

  My old boss…That could only mean one thing-I was fired. I thought of Camden and trembled. He mentioned that his fake footage would lead straight back to him. Worry poured over me like a sack of wet cement. I couldn’
t breathe, let alone move. Oh God, please…Not Camden!

  I got my voice back and mumbled, “That was one scary night.”

  The Peacekeeper nodded. “Our prince wanted you safe and ordered me to bring you here. You are not a prisoner. I will get you some water. Would you like something to eat?”

  “If I am not a prisoner, then I’ll see myself out.”

  “No. Not until the prince gives me the order. You will have to make due with these surroundings. I am here to protect you.”

  Protect me, bullshit. I turned on the television. Every channel was the same. Same reporters, same camera angle, same running caption. I stopped flipping once Channel Seven came up.

  Doctor Laurie who was now officially called Prince Laurie announced his Secret Peace and Truth Task Force uncovered a lead from a security camera of downtown Brookline. Wendy’s bakery! I tried to keep my poker face on while watching the news. A beautiful young redheaded woman dressed in a gray wool and fur-trimmed coat stood outside of what was once Boston Symphony Hall. Firetrucks, squad cars, and military trucks flashed behind her.

  “As you can see, the scene of the attack is overloaded with police, fire, and military personnel. One of the first big breaks of this vicious, vengeful terrorist plot has just come in. Wendy Grossman, seventy, employed by Sweet Shop Bakery, is spotted leaving her upstairs Brookline apartment shortly after six o’clock last night. She walks down the alley behind her home to an abandoned garage just four blocks away. The footage ends here, at this quiet intersection just past the downtown area. But it picks back up on Main Street. Ms. Grossman is stopped at a light in a Peacekeeping truck. The footage is blurry, but after questioning, Ms. Grossman is clearly involved. How did she acquire a Peacekeeping vehicle? Where was she going with it? What part did she play in this deadly attack?

  “Breaking news. Reports just came in that Prince Laurie and his Peace Elders finished questioning her. The Secret Peace and Truth Task Force determined that Wendy Grossman committed treason. Wait, here comes Prince Laurie.” The reporter jammed a microphone in his face. “Prince Laurie, was justice served?” Stephen avoided the cameras and went over to talk with Peacekeepers, firefighters, and cops from the Secret Peace and Truth Task Force.